Judge of Worth
by Fly and Crow
Summary: Sequel to Solo-Strifer's Should've Known: He knew he was too late, that it was his fault that he lost Leon. That was not going to stop him from trying to win him back. BaschxLeon, CloudxLeon


_A continuation to _Solo-Strifer's Should've Known_, written for the same prompt in the _Strifehart Kink Meme_ (which, if you google it, can be found in the _cleonrp community profile in livejournal_). It would be helpful to have read that one first, but if you haven't, I'd like to mention that this is BaschxLeon as much as CloudxLeon. So, if that's alright with you... have at it!_

* * *

After his exchange of words with Yuffie, he knew he should have left right away. He would have too, if only – _if only_ – the Gummi Ship he flew in on had not been low on fuel. After all, he had not planned to take off again right away. With this abrupt change in plans, he was forced to scrounge up what he could to get his hands on some fuel without alerting any more of the Restoration Committee to his presence.

That was all the delay required for one blond warrior to catch up to the other.

"Get out of my way."

The tall, scarred fighter – Basch, his name was – did not heed the growled warning. He leaned against the ship's hull, conveniently placing himself between Cloud and the gang plank. His point was simple: if Cloud intended to leave, he'd have to go through him first. The greatsword swinging in its scabbard at his side was a pretty obvious indication of his willingness to fight, if it came down to that.

"You are him," this man called Basch stated simply. Not a question, but still requiring an answer.

"… 'Him'," Cloud repeated back, demanding a confirmation before he could promise anything.

"The one he sheds tears for."

It was a stab to his chest to hear those words, to understand where this man – his replacement – was coming from. It was somewhat disconcerting to realize the new person in Leon's life knew about him, knew what he did, and…

"I know why," Basch confirmed. "I understand, but I do not condone it."

"So why are you here?" Cloud demanded. "Come to be my executioner?"

"Your final sentence is not mine to give," the man replied. "But for now, I shall be your judge."

"What of?"

"Your worthiness."

The words rubbed him the wrong way, and he was the first to draw his weapon. The cloth-wrapped buster sword was the much larger of the pair, but he could distinctly recognize Excalibur the moment the famous weapon was unsheathed. Still, neither blond moved. Eyes bore into eyes, each man sizing the other up, studying for strength while searching for weakness. They were circling each other, their individual blades held before them with tips pointed at throats.

Yet, the circle had barely closed to attacking distance for either man when a third blade cut between them. Both pairs of eyes widened marginally as light reflected off the shining surface of the gunblade both knew so very well. And holding it by the hilt, its wielder was not amused by what he saw.

"If either of you have an explanation for this," he stated without raising his voice. "I will hear it now or not at all."

In the face of the irked lion waiting for a reason to strike, both men were humbled. Swords returned to their individual sheaths as Cloud and Basch backed off, neither looking at the other again. Unappeased, Leon promptly turned on Cloud.

"You," he addressed icily; he might as well have brought Revolver to the man's neck, "are not going anywhere until you speak to _both_ Aerith and Tifa. You owe them that much. And then you will not leave until you have settled all your affairs and leave nothing behind this time. What you do after that and where you go, I don't care."

There was no mention of himself, not even a final word about the relationship that Cloud had broken so carelessly with his assumptions. But already the brunet was turning to the other man involved in the near-fight.

"And you," he spoke – Cloud could hear the gentler tone, slight as it may be – "are no longer welcome in my house until I say otherwise."

Ignoring Basch's wounded expression, Leon turned on his heel and left the hangar. Again, the two blonds were left to their own devices, the tension in the air of a much different sort. With both men so effectively beaten down not with metal and blood but with the harsh reprimands of one angry boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend), it was perhaps a little too awkward now.

"… I guess I saw that coming," Cloud admitted after a while. Then, with an empathetic glance Basch's way, he added, "Still, that was harsh. I figured he would have just demoted you to the couch."

"I _was_ on the couch," Basch replied sorely.

Cloud realized a second after what that implied, and winced in a show of empathy. "Hard one to please, isn't he?"

"Agreed."

"Want to trade stories over a drink?"

Even with Basch's surprised arch of a scarred brow, Cloud wondered at himself momentarily why he was literally drinking with the enemy. But just as quickly, he had his answer: this man who had taken his place in Leon's life, all the years that he had been negligent, was a source of information. He had little to go on, but he felt he could trust the man to tell him, truthfully, how Leon had been. Not as a friend, but as someone who loved him deeply.

Basch seemed to come to the same conclusion, and he nodded. "My treat."

* * *

It was nothing short of a mercy that Tifa decided to spare him his punishment for the moment, instead serving both men with no questions asked. Still, she seemed rightfully puzzled over the picture of Leon's two lovers – one current and the other former – sitting together, shoulders touching, and sharing out a bottle of hard liquor between them.

The alcohol did wonders in loosening their usually held tongues, and halfway into their third bottle they were already sharing individual experiences between them that ranged from friendly to borderline intimate, each one musing thoughtfully over the differences while chuckling drowsily over the similarities.

In that time, Cloud found himself appreciating this man as well, respecting him. While not the most eloquent of speakers, Basch was a man of honor, of devotion, of loyalty. Basch could stand up straight with his head held high and face his problems where Cloud would have slumped his shoulders, turned and walked away. Basch could make promises and keep them to the fullest of his ability where Cloud would have apologized without even trying.

He hated to admit it, but Basch seemed the ideal man for Leon.

"He misses you."

Those three honest words seemed to come out of nowhere, and the shorter blond turned to the older in silent demand for explanation.

"He tries not to, but he is unable to find anyone or anything to replace you in his heart," Basch did explain, slowly, mulling over a half-drained snifter. "When he finally accepted me, part of his reason for doing so was that I held nothing in common with you."

It was food for thought, a glimmer of painful hope. But then there was the truth that weighed down on his shoulders.

"I don't deserve him anymore," he muttered in return. "I had my chance with him, and I blew it."

"So you would give up?" Basch challenged quietly, surprisingly sober. "Do you not love him enough to try again?"

"I just told you, I screwed up," Cloud snapped irritably. "He's not going to take me back."

"So start from the beginning," the other replied, "and work your way back up."

Cloud paused, his mind swimming with thoughts, dreams, possibilities that he would not otherwise humor if he were in a right state of mind. Finally, he voiced his most immediate concern:

"You're the one in his life now. Why are you helping me?"

Basch did not answer him right away, instead dedicated to draining the snifter and then reaching for the bottle of brandy again. He was silent, watching the dark liquid swirl within the glass, before setting the bottle down once more and staring into a tiny whirlpool.

"I promised him," he began, "that I would give everything for his happiness, that I would stop at nothing to preserve it. If I cannot be the one to give it to him, then I will find the source he needs." There was a pause, and quite surprisingly the inebriated man chuckled before tapping a finger in Cloud's direction. "And just so we are clear on this, I am not helping you. I just suggested that you try to court a man who is currently taken, and I do not plan to make anything easy for you."

He did not wait to hear the other blond's answer. Downing that final glassful of brandy, Basch swung from his seat and dropped a handful of munny on the counter to pay for the drinks. Then he was gone, out into the chilly night with only the alcohol in his system to warm him.

Left with the rest of the bottle and his own thoughts, Cloud did not bother turning to watch him go.

* * *

Trying to win Leon's affection had not been easy even when they first met, when the brunet was single. It was different now – Leon was not only taken by a great guy, but was not in any mood to forgive Cloud so easily. Just attempting to gain his attention now would be like returning spilt water to its glass. But he tried all the same. Damn it, he did. It had been a while, but there were the basics that he figured to work well enough in the past; he tried them again.

Leon had not batted an eyelid when Cloud joined the volunteers in the morning, ready to receive direction on where to go for the endless construction work ahead of them. He did not so much as blink when Cloud managed to persuade one of the other workers to trade spots with him, enabling him to follow in the brunet's footsteps all through the day. He took that as a good sign, up until he caught on to the facts.

Leon was civil, playing nice but no more; he spoke to Cloud as he would to any of the others – to people who were just a step up from being complete strangers. While he did not go out of his way to ignore the man, it was obvious that Leon did not welcome his presence. Any actual conversation between them was kept to a bare minimal, his answers to any questions as monosyllabic as possible, and any chances for exchanged physical contact were non-existent.

All throughout, Basch was by Leon's other side as he watched unimpressed. That drunken night of comradeship was far behind them, and the occasional looks he sent Cloud's way were barely gentle in their condescendence. Unless Cloud was willing to take this seriously, he was just not worth noticing.

That was when Cloud attempted the next familiar step: sparring. Leon never was one to turn down a good fight. Not from anyone. Not even from someone like Cloud.

So when Leon left the main office with Basch a step behind, his steps slowed to a halt at the sight of Cloud before him, his buster sword out and waiting with his silent request. Though the brunet hesitated, eyeing the man suspiciously, he at last nodded in acceptance and drew his gunblade as well.

"Where?" Leon asked.

"Our usual spot," Cloud answered.

"I don't remember it," the brunet stated truthfully, glaring.

"Don't worry," the blond replied, stepping forward to lead the way. "I do."

And when they reached it, Cloud allowed Leon a moment to reacquaint himself with the area that he could only assume had been deliberately avoided for all those years. The brunet had chosen to come after him without his self-appointed bodyguard, leaving them alone for the first time in days. It was an impulsive gesture, and from the look on Leon's face, Cloud wondered if Leon was starting to have second thoughts about this.

"Just so you know," he called, regaining the other's attention quickly, "I don't intend to go easy on you."

Leon actually froze, staring at him with an emotion he could not name. Then, for the first time since he came back, he smiled at him. It was not a true smile, technically more of a smirk, but a smile nonetheless. In retaliation, he held up his gunblade as well.

"I don't expect you to."

And when they clashed again, sword against sword, it was almost as though nothing had changed between them. Riding the wave of adrenaline, he felt again the surge that only fighting Leon could provide. He had almost forgotten what it felt like, after the years, and to feel it again, he felt a fool to have missed on this for so long.

He was not the only one to have become stronger. Leon, too, had sharpened both blade and skill over the years. The unexpected moves he had picked up were enough to give him a needed edge over Cloud's power – the same power that had finally felled Sephiroth with a decisive blow. The blond suspected most of them had come from Basch, and the thought of the other man clashing with Leon, earning those impressed smirks with each move…

There was a cry, and he found himself straddling the brunet with his blade driven deep into the ground inches from Leon's ear. The man was staring up at him, impassive save for his deep breaths.

"… Are you done?"

He nodded, breathless himself.

"Then get off me."

Numbly, he obeyed, allowing Leon to sit up and finally get to his feet. The brunet flinched, his hand on the weeping red line that slashed across his stomach, not deep enough to inflict any lasting damage but still enough to prevent him from continuing their spar. He reached for a potion, downing it in a single gulp and allowing curative magic to do its job. When he was done, he tossed another to Cloud.

"… You are stronger," he admitted. "Was it worth it?"

_Was it worth giving up everything else?_

Cloud found himself unable to answer. He could not regret defeating Sephiroth at long last, but losing Leon was not a price he would ever be ready to face up to.

Leon waited for the answer that never came, then finally turned on his heel to walk away.

"Think about it," he stated softly. "Until then, don't come after me again."

* * *

"I told you to back off."

It was not a smart move, but at this point Cloud was ready to cast all his chips to the table. Leon was glaring right at him, arms folded defensively before his chest and his legs slightly apart. The rest of the Committee and volunteers in the main office lingered, watching curiously.

"I heard you."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"You know why."

"I want to hear you say it," Leon demanded in a deceptively calm voice. "Say it, or walk out."

Cloud paused, breathing in deeply. Behind the brunet was Basch, also waiting but with a more curious air. Across from them was the rest of the Committee, uncertain if they should intervene or encourage. Everything rode on this one, risky moment…

"… I don't want to lose you."

He saw it: the fracture in the barrier that Leon had put up. He could almost hear it crack with stinging sharpness, before those brittle eyes narrowed in a more intense, fiercer glare than ever.

"You already have."

And the brunet turned his back on the blond, his head bowed. It seemed he would retreat against Basch's chest, but he slipped pass the man and continued on his way. The taller man said nothing, asked nothing, but one he caught up to the withdrawn brunet, he knew to place a comforting arm over those tense shoulders and follow his lead outside.

Yet, as he left, he turned his head just long enough to send Cloud a nod. Not of approval, but at least of acknowledgment.

Cloud had gained a significant reaction. It was a step closer.

* * *

"You wish to fight me."

It had been only a matter of time before they came back to this spot. Again, Basch and Cloud stood opposing one another, swords at their sides and ready to be crossed. Though the scene seemed the same, the intentions were different.

Cloud had reestablished himself, enough so to properly regard Basch as another challenge to overcome. It would start with comparing their strengths, and where better to begin that than with the physical?

"You wanted to judge my worth, right?" he asked. "Judge it now."

The older man studied the younger for a moment, eyes bearing deep into the others as he studied him for his true intentions. It seemed impossible to hide anything from him.

"… Very well." And Excalibur was held up, poised as it had before with its tip aimed at Cloud's throat. "If this is what you wish."

Nodding, Cloud returned the gesture by raising his sword as well, aimed in kind. For a while longer, neither moved from their spots. The canyon stretched out around them, so silent that they could hear their own heartbeats.

Then they flew at each other, the first clash a loud chime as sparks flew. Despite the advantage Cloud's buster sword held in bulk, Excalibur continued to meet him with an alarming strength. Blow after blow, they were evenly matched. Yet, Basch's expression remained unchanging, calm as ever, as though he were not trying very hard. With a determined snarl, Cloud slid his blade close to the ground in an upward arc, aiming at the man's ribs. Basch in turn had his greatsword high, swinging it downward at the other's bare shoulder.

"_WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING?!_"

The high-pitched holler was unexpected, surprising both warriors from their fight near badly enough for an accident. The befuddled look on Basch's face from nearly taking Cloud's ear was priceless, before it slipped into a calmer façade. Cloud in turn was quick to move his blade away from its precarious position between the taller man's legs. Unbothered by what mishaps she had nearly caused, Yuffie yelled down the cliff with desperate urgency.

"_We've been looking everywhere for you two! You've gotta come back to the town, like RIGHT NOW!_" she called. "_There's been trouble at the construction site! Leon was in there, and…!_"

Neither man waited for her to finish before they bolted for the rocks, running past the ninja and racing into town. If either had cared just a little less for the weapons they carried, both swords would have been discarded as deadweights. Radiant Garden had always seemed so much smaller before, compared to this moment when they had so little time.

And then they were there, beholding the sight of three houses completely laid to waste. Support beams of black and gray were warped and twisted this way and that from the pressure of concrete and brick's collapse, and said bricks of at least three different painted colors were scattered all over among misshapen rocks of debris. Despite the dangerous sight, people were everywhere, trying to clear as much as they could in hope of finding survivors.

"Cid!" Cloud called to the dust-covered pilot just a short distance from them. "Cid, where's Leon?"

"What d'ya _think_?!" the man spat back, futilely scrubbing at the coat of gray over his goggles, "He's somewhere under this bloody mess, the idiot…! If ya plan on helpin' any time t'day, I ain't complainin'."

The two men immediately joined the ranks, each one sweeping through the debris for any sign of the brunet. It seemed a futile endeavor – both were strong, but before them was a mountain to cleave through, and who knew how long they truly had… On either side, each blond grabbed another boulder and hefted it away, clearing space steadily but just not fast enough…

Then they stopped and looked at one another. They came to same decision: this was bigger than their rivalry. A life they both cherished was depending on their success, a success that neither would achieve unless they were willing to work together.

Basch seemed all for it, seemed ready for it from the very beginning. Cloud growled, so very frustrated by the thoughts that went through his head, both rational and irrational. But in the end, one memory surfaced and stayed there, burning into him.

"… _I don't want to lose you."_

It had been more than words. It had been a promise. This time, he swore that he would keep it. With a nod, he went back to digging. It was a little less frantic, but with new purpose. It no longer mattered which of them found Leon first, so long as he _was_ found.

Eventually, out of either coincidence or a turn of fates, both came upon their goal almost at the same time. All they saw was an arm wrapped in belts sticking out from a mess of broken bricks and concrete, a thick twisted metal beam lying atop the pile. At once Basch slipped his fingers under it and started to heft it upward, but it was not until Cloud grabbed the other side when it came free with a groan and a rain of dust.

Sure enough, the brunet lay in a crumpled heap beneath the mess. He was too still, it was barely discernable if he was even breathing. The sharp scent of blood was filling Cloud's nostrils, making him gag. He wanted to reach down at once, to grab the broken man and draw him close. He barely held himself back, forcing himself to remember the priorities of this situation.

"… Basch. Take him," he growled through the strain. "Hurry."

The man needed no second invitation. The moment he let go, Cloud felt the weight on his shoulders double, threatening to drop him and its full bulk at once. He ground his teeth together as he held on, though his arms were quivering in protest, and he watched through squinting eyes as the older blond grabbed Leon and dragged him out of harm's way. He barely waited until they were behind him before letting go at last, remembering at the last moment to step out of the way as the beam fell back into place, debris crumbling further beneath it.

He all but collapsed himself at that point, his muscles screaming from the stress he had placed on them. Coughing through the clouds of dust, he turned back to Basch. He found the man kneeling over Leon, his strength divided between the tasks of staunching bleeding and accessing the true extent of damage. Cid was coming as well, waving a hand to the others and calling for a stretcher.

"No hospital," Cloud heard himself call out quickly, impulsively. "Leon… he hates hospitals."

"But this is serious…!" one of the helpers protested.

"His home," Basch interrupted. He was calm despite the situation, affecting others with that calm. "We will attend to him there. Cloud and myself."

Cloud felt the weight of the older man's gaze on him. He nodded, affirming the words. Grumbling in frustration, Cid at last gave his consent, directing the helpers to where other survivors were in waiting for them. Kneeling at Leon's other side, Cloud's brows furrowed in worry as he looked over his current state.

"How is he?"

"We need to clean him up before we can heal him," Basch explained. "We cannot risk infection."

The older man was lifting the brunet, cradling him against his chest with a gentleness that seemed out of place for a warrior. He took the lead this time, striding with confidence toward Leon's home. Struggling against the aching in his limbs, Cloud followed.

* * *

There was pain in consciousness, the dull throbbing throughout his body coupled with a persistent lethargy that kept him struggling to wake. He eventually won the struggle, his eyes prying open by mere slits. Thankfully, the lights were off, the room dim enough to allow him sufficient time to adjust.

His first sight was Basch, sleeping in a chair nearby with his arms crossed and his head bowed toward his chest. Even in sleep, the man did not seem all that peaceful, his expression that of one constantly on the alert against attack.

Then he noticed there was something warm wrapped around his fingers. Leon looked to his other side and found Cloud kneeling by the bed with his head pillowed in his arms and his hand still clutching his. What must have once been a possessive grip had been loosened by sleep, and Leon slipped out of the grasp; the simple move, however, was about enough to gain the attention of both blonds.

"Leon…" Cloud uttered.

"You are alright?" Basch asked at the same time.

Leon carefully wetted his lips, but doubted his ability regardless to speak through a scratchy throat. The older man was the first to sense what he needed, bringing with him a glass of water to the bedside. In the time he was helped to drink it, he was troubled by his thoughts, by what he knew and what he had just seen.

"You still need to rest," Basch stated, taking the emptied glass back. Turning, he headed for the door. "I will not take long."

Then, before Leon and Cloud could realize it, Basch had left them alone with each other. Cloud looked away, struggling with words he wanted to say.

"Leon… I…"

"… help me," Leon finally spoke weakly, pushing himself slowly upright despite the move to restrain him.

"You should be resting."

"I can do that sitting up."

Relenting, Cloud assisted Leon to sit upright on the side of his bed, his feet on the ground. He stood before the brunet for a moment longer, then, with a shaky breath, he knelt before him.

"I came too close to losing you," he muttered. "I can't go through that again…"

Leon stared down at the spiky head that was practically in his lap. Slowly, he lifted his hand from his side and buried it in blond hair, threading through it, remembering painfully what it had felt like all those fateful years ago. Cloud was responding to his caress, leaning into the touch as he continued to plead his case.

"Don't let me lose you again," he begged. "Give me another chance. Let me make it up to you."

"… I can't take you back," Leon whispered.

"Then let us start over. From the beginning."

Leon realized his hand felt no urge to stop what he was doing. He found himself uncertain, hesitating… Cloud had known, and still he had left. Yet here he was, not only returning but staying, willing to actually work for this. His chest hurt for him to consider all these things, but he could not truly know what it was for.

With a tired sigh, he at last made his choice. Though a single, final tear rolled down his cheek, he allowed himself to smile, to forgive.

Outside their room, Basch shifted. He listened to all the words that passed between them and watched all that was going on. For now, he made no move to interfere. As he saw the smile of acceptance, he knew. He knew what was in his loved one's heart.

_I made you a promise, and I will keep it…_

Turning, he slipped away, to give them the privacy they needed. Caught up in the moment, both in poorer condition than usual, neither man noticed him take his leave.

"… I am already with Basch," Leon spoke at last.

With a soft chuckle, Cloud raised his head to look at the brunet, then a hand to wipe the tear away. "Then I will have to catch up, won't I? Though, he is a hard act to follow."

It was Leon's turn to chuckle softly. "… It's funny," he mused aloud. "He said the same thing about you."


End file.
